Second Star to the Right
by Apophenia
Summary: AU. A little fairy finds a baby on a doorstep and spirits him away to Neverland. With Pan missing, Harry becomes the leader of a new band of Lost Boys. But what will he do when's he's forced back to the Wizarding world and expected to defeat Voldemort?


1Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan, nor do I own Harry Potter.

**Second Star to the Right**

Chapter One

"_It is never too late to have a happy childhood."_

- Tom Robbins

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Something was wrong. Something was inexplicably, horribly wrong. A crawling sense of dread had been with her since she had woken up this morning. Swimming in the lagoon hadn't cured it. Scratching her back against a rose thorn hadn't helped. Even taking the left-over cold medicine she'd gotten from the Indians a few weeks ago hadn't banished the unsettling feelings.

This made Tinkerbell angry. Why did she have to feel this way? She had more important things to do! Her hair was starting to dull, and it needed washing in the dew drops. She wanted to find a different colored flower petal for a new skirt, and for goodness sakes, she hadn't a bite to eat all day. But she couldn't concentrate on any of those things, so great was this awful feeling.

"I shall take flight, and I shan't return to Neverland until I have found that which has caused me such illness," said Tinkerbell.

Tinkerbell took to the sky, the golden glow of fairy dust trailing after her.

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"I still don't like it Albus. These people are the worse sort of muggles imaginable! The Boy Who Lived -"

"Exactly Minerva. He is the Boy Who Lived. He will be bombarded with fame before he can even understand what fame is. The Wizarding world will be no place for him to be while he's still so young. Let him grow up just like any other child," said Dumbledore.

McGonnagal huffed. "Well, I suppose you have a point Albus, but can't we find someone else to take the boy in?"

"The protection offered by his blood relatives is far more than he can receive anywhere else. There is no other option open for us now. Hagrid should be here soon - oh, why I do believe I hear him now."

A giant man riding a flying motorcycle landed with a dull thud some ways down the street. He rolled up to meet McGonnagal and the headmaster, parking the bike on some award-winning petunias planted next to the mailbox.

"Hagrid, do you have him?" asked Dumbledore.

"Aye Headmaster. The little tyke fell o' sleep on the way," replied Hagrid.

Minerva examined the boy Hagrid handed to the headmaster. McGonnagal reached a tentative finger towards the boy's forehead.

"Is that where . . ." McGonnagal trailed off, unable to finish her question.

"Yes, that's where the curse hit. He'll have that scar for the rest of his life," said Dumbledore.

"Oh but Albus! Isn't there something you can do about it?" asked McGonnagal, sniffing suspiciously.

Dumbledore shook his head, turning a blind eye to his colleague's obvious distress. "Some scars can come in handy later on. I myself have a scar on my knee that is an exact replica of downtown London. All I have to do is life my robes, and I'll never be lost while wandering around downtown."

McGonnagal threw her hands up in the air, exasperated, while Hagrid nodded solemnly in agreement with the headmaster.

Dumbledore gently laid the sleeping baby on the door step of number four Privet Drive. The baby squirmed at the lost body heat, but lay still once more. Dumbledore pulled out a pre-written letter from his robes, and laid it next to the sleeping baby. Making sure the blue baby blanket was wrapped around tightly, the headmaster straightened up.

"Good luck Harry Potter."

The three people standing on the front lawn of number four Privet Drive disappeared into the night, and the street lights again shined bright.

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London. Of course the retched feeling would lead her to London. Tinkerbell hated London. London was the reason Peter wasn't with her anymore. If there was no London, then there wouldn't have been a girl named Wendy living there, and if she hadn't lived in London, then Peter would not have ever found her. She'd have never come to Neverland, and Peter wouldn't have ever left on that confounded pirate ship. Therefore, it was all London's fault for Peter sailing away.

Once Peter had seen Wendy and her brothers safely back in London, he'd opted to sail the pirate ship through the skies to look for more adventure. After all, there wasn't anymore Captain Hook to terrorize Neverland, and the Lost Boys had stayed with Wendy. Tinkerbell was left behind. Oh, she had been invited, of course, but she didn't want to be separated from her home. Neverland had always been her home, and she wasn't going to leave it.

London had done one good thing for her, however. It had given her Peter once upon a time ago. It still didn't change her feelings towards London though.

Peter had promised he'd come back after he'd been on a few adventures, but that was so long ago. For the boy who never aged, time was irrelevant. Peter didn't even notice the passage of time.

But Tink had often wondered if something had happened to Peter. She feared that he might have grown up and forgotten about her. Tinkerbell never usually let those thoughts cross her mind. So instead she assured herself that Peter had lost track of time. One day could be one minute for the boy who never grew up.

However, for Tinkerbell, time had slowed to a crawl since Peter had left, and so it was just Fate being cruel that the little fairy found her way to London. Although, now that Tink thought about it, this feeling seemed to be less of a horrible sensation and more of a . . . tugging? Yes, it was definitely more of a tugging now.

Well, at least she wasn't feeling so dreadful, but where was she being lead to? And what was leading her?

Tinkerbell smiled as she flew away from the city's noise and too bright lights. At least this feeling was leading her away from London, but not far enough away for Tinkerbell's tastes.

She flew over a large neighborhood, which amazingly had houses that all looked exactly the same. Tink scrunched up her nose. How boring and . . . drab! Why, even the flowers were lackluster and boring!

She stopped in flight abruptly when she noticed that a huge flying thing was hurtling towards her. With an embarrassing squeak, which she dearly hoped no one heard, she tore off into a nearby patch of flowers.

She sniffed.

Petunias weren't ever her favorite flower, but at least she was safe from - her eyes widened. It was on the ground and coming right towards her! She hurtled out of the way just in the nick of time. Why the nerve of that . . . that . . . huge huge HUGE man! Tinkerbell wasn't even sure that was a man!

She peaked around the large tin can that smelled of garbage and saw two humans and a large thing conversing. The large thing handed the old man with a long beard a small bundle, but Tink couldn't determine what it was. The funny smelling lady, or maybe it was just this can, hesitantly touched the bundle before pulling back her hand and wiping her eyes. Was the lady sad?

The old man took the bundle to the front of the house that looked like every other house and gently laid the bundle down. She silently crept up behind the old man, trying to catch what he was saying while remaining unnoticed.

"Good luck Harry Potter."

Tinkerbell frowned. Hairy . . . Potter? What a funny thing to call a bundle of what must be rags! It didn't look hairy. She glanced over towards the three beings and was surprised at what she saw. The two funny humans and the big thing disappeared right in front of her eyes, and the lights on poles lining the road lit up brightly.

Tink blinked.

You don't see humans and things doing that everyday. As far as she knew, grown ups didn't even have magic. She shrugged to herself. She didn't much care. After all, it really wasn't any of her business, and neither was that strange bundle, but she was so curious as to what the old man with the long beard had called a Hairy Potter. She didn't even realize that the tugging sensation had all but stopped, so intent on the bundle was she.

Tinkerbell flew up to the bundle and pulled back the soft blue layer. She gasped in surprise. It was a baby! Those horrible humans and big thing had abandoned a child on someone's doorstep! Hairy Potter, no Harry Potter. It must be this child's name! Oh what dreadful beings they were! And what a dreadful deed!

She looked over the child with messy black hair. Tink was confused. The baby wasn't moving. Was he asleep or . . . Tinkerbell poked the baby on his nose with her tiny finger. He didn't move. Worried now, Tinkerbell poked the baby's nose again, but harder. And suddenly, there came a loud noise as she was blown back.

"Achoo!"

She grimaced as she flicked off baby snot. Oh yes, the child was alive, but he sure wouldn't be for long now! Not after her just ruined one of her favorite dress - oh. The baby opened his eyes. What beautiful green eyes. Almost the color of the deepest part of the lagoon. Tinkerbell flew up to the baby, who didn't cry, but regarded her with awe. He smiled. Tinkerbell stilled.

"I believe I have no other choice but to bring you home, Harry Potter."

Harry giggled as he bathed in a golden light and lifted from the ground.

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Petunia Dursley awoke to the sound of her son crying. She groggily made her way to her son's nursery and promptly tripped over one of the numerous toys littering her child's room. Cursing, she hefted her heavy son out of his crib and went down to the kitchen to retrieve her Duddy Dumpkins a bottle.

She sat her son in his high chair, fondly regarding him as he continued to scream. She looked in the fridge, but found that there was no milk container. Petunia realized that it must be Wednesday, and on Wednesdays she'd find new milk out on the front step. Dudley still screamed, but she just smiled at her perfect son.

She opened the front door and bent down to get the fresh milk and the paper. When she straightened, she dropped the milk jug, which shattered into many pieces, and the paper.

She screamed.

Vernon Dursley, having been awoken by the scream of his wife, tried in vain to roll out of bed quickly, but was impeded by his weight. Once he did manage to make his way downstairs, he found his wife standing in the front door.

"What is all the ruckus about!" he barked.

Petunia pointed towards the mailbox.

"Some hooligan has destroyed my prize-winning flowers!"

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A/N: Lately, I've been obsessed with Peter Pan, so I've combined my two favorite fandoms. When finally faced with the challenges and obstacles of adulthood, I've realized that growing up is the absolute last thing I ever want to do. So this story is dedicated to all those people who have been forced to grow up, one way or another, before their time.


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